


Blood In the Water

by bluelionsordie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biting, Dimitri is lowkey magic, M/M, Sylvain's usual self sacrificing schtick, blood donating, established relationships - Freeform, fancy new words for vampires and werewolves, no beta we die like men, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelionsordie/pseuds/bluelionsordie
Summary: an overproduced, lore-intensive vampire and werewolf AU that has Sylvain and Dimitri as "brothers" in a tribe and Dedue and Felix as their respective "beasts" all to satiate my friend's biting kink.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 104





	Blood In the Water

**Author's Note:**

> I can give a small explanation to the lore if anyone wants it but it's not really that important just ask in the comments if you're interested

It had happened moments ago, yet it was still so hard to remember. Screaming and the crashing of blades, snapping jaws and blood splattering across his vision, a golden sky painted red by death. The growl of Felix as his claws had torn through the vulnerable bodies of the enemy tribe, the roar of Dedue as he smashed skulls into the ground at their feet, the cry as Dimitri was torn open by a blade and—

“How bad is it?”

Dedue’s voice tore Sylvain from his thoughts and made him painfully aware of the dead quiet surrounding him now. He stared into the dark cave in front of him, the encroaching darkness of the set sun dwindling in comparison to the pitch black of the cave’s maw. Dedue was a strong, steady presence behind him, a presence that was normally filled by someone much slighter.

“How is Dimitri?” Sylvain asked, ignoring Dedue’s question. The Damarchus rumbled a low sound in his throat, giving Sylvain answer enough. “You need to take him. Get to the nearest town. Get to a healer.”

“And you?”

It was no surprise to hear Dedue would save Dimitri no matter what it took. What was surprising was knowing Dedue cared enough to linger and ask after Sylvain’s safety. No stunning realization, though. What was waiting for Sylvain inside the cave was far more dangerous than just some traitorous bastards coming for their throats.

“I can’t leave him.”

“So you resign yourself to death?”

Sylvain wished that weren’t the case, but it was the reality he was facing. Felix, Sylvain’s best friend and lover, was inside that cave, starving. Creatures of Felix’s breed didn’t need anything but the running blood of a victim to satiate them and keep them alive. While blood was normally kept in the body for days and days and days, recycled through the heart like a human, the blood Felix had lost in the battle needed replenishment, or he would die. Dimitri, Felix’s foresworn, was the only person in existence who Felix could theoretically feed from and not kill, instinct keeping him from draining his victim dry. Anyone else would surely perish, drained by the sharp teeth and golden eyes. 

Sylvain wet his lips. He was the only option. Dedue was a Damarchus and his blood would poison Felix. Dimitri was dying and had no blood to spare. Sylvain— Sylvain was Felix’s only hope. “I can’t leave him.”

Another low rumble from Dedue. “He will miss you.”

Dimitri’s name remained oddly unsaid. Sylvain swallowed hard and wished this weren’t the truth. He and Dimitri— they were brothers in every way save blood. They’d known one another longer than anyone else in the world. Saying Dimitri would miss him was an understatement. Sylvain blinked rapidly an barely got out, “I can’t let Felix die.”

“I understand.”

Sylvain was sure Dedue did. Felix had sustained his most grievous injury whilst keeping Sylvain from being gutted. Twenty against four was hardly fair, especially the coupled with the four being on the run, sole survivors of their tribe after they’d been slaughtered by a coup. Unified nation Sylvain’s left nut. 

Dedue understood Sylvain’s need to repay the sacrifice Felix had made. While Felix had been born and raised by the elders to be Dimitri’s companion and Wächter, Dedue had instead taken the role when Dimitri had thrown his body across Dedue’s to save the lone wolf from being exterminated during the Barrens Massacre. Dedue, for all they knew, was the last surviving wolf. A huge man with hair as white as snow and eyes as dark as coal, slipping the fur of his ancestor over his head to transform into a beast that craved flesh on all fours. In being saved, Dedue had sworn himself to Dimitri. And with Felix saving Sylvain, Sylvain was now sworn to ensure his lover survived— even if that was without him. 

“It’s funny,” Dedue said in a way that made Sylvain suspect what he was about to say wasn’t funny at all. “I’ve never known a Draugr to love at all.”

“It is a bond that has transcended time amongst our people,” Sylvain said dully, like he was reading from scripts that had burned away only a few nights ago. “He was meant to love Dimitri.”

“And instead he loves you.”

Sylvain shuddered. “Save Dimitri. Take care of him.”

“Until the day I die.” Dedue stepped into Sylvain’s line of sight and craned his head back, showing his throat, a display of submission and respect. “Ensure Felix knows to come to the nearest town. He cannot afford to lose you both.” Then Dedue turned, marching to Dimitri to drag him up and over his back, then pulling the wolfskin hood up over his head, the skin stretching and forming down his body, anatomy changing, twisting, Dedue landing on all fours and at shoulder’s height with Sylvain. The four paws sank into the snow and then Dedue was off, darting amongst the dead trees for the light glowing far on the horizon. Dedue watched him go and wished he’d thought to say goodbye to the unconscious Dimitri. He had wanted to feel his brother’s warm breath one last time.

Sylvain took in a deep breath and faced the darkness of the cave once more. There was no sound from the cave, no life at all, but Felix technically wasn’t alive anymore with how much blood he’d lost. His heart could barely pump what was left in his body and the Draugr would soon starve. Sylvain had seen it happen before, had seen Felix’s cousin perish. The wilted flesh clinging to bone, white as a sheet and the eyes burn away by the sun. Then the wind came and the body broke apart like leaves, ceasing to exist. He felt sick remembering it, even more sick to think Felix could meet the same fate. Felix, while Sylvain’s lover, was meant to die saving Dimitri, not him. 

The thought was the final push Sylvain needed, sending his heavy feet marching into the pitch without another moment of hesitation. There was no breathing, no movement, no sign of life, as he trekked deeper and deeper into the cave. Upon being wounded and seeing the state of Dimitri, Felix had retreated into the cave of his own volition, unable to satiate his thirst with the corpses because still blood was death to even him. Felix had quarantined himself for their safety and Sylvain’s heart ached to think of him alone in this dank, dark cave, trembling and dying and telling himself he was doing the right thing. Sylvain wet his lips and then said, “I have a feeling this isn’t the vacation you were asking me for.”

There was silence. Then dry laughter, wheezing at the edges, yet still definable. “I was hoping somewhere warmer.”  
a  
“We’re Tribe Loog, we don’t know the warmth.” Sylvain squinted in the dark, in too deep for the dying daylight behind to be much help, then flinched as Felix summoned dark fire from his palm and held it aloft, the red flame casing eery shadows across Felix’s usually gaunt face. Sylvain shivered. “You’re starving.”

“No shit,” Felix said, shifting where he was slumped across the ground. His hair was an unkempt mess, the tie normally keeping the strands from his face snapped and gone in their battle. HIs clothes were torn and dead blood was staining his clothes a dark brown. “Since we’re stating the obvious— you shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not injured,” Sylvain said even though his plan involved bloodletting regardless. He breathed in deep, readying himself to die with every moment. “Dedue took Dimitri to the closest town. He— he should live.”

Felix made a harsh noise in the back of his throat. “Do you think that dog makes Dimitri take his knot?”

“Gods, Felix,” Sylvain sputtered, running a hand through his hair. He was shaking. “Do you even realize what’s happening? What’s happening to you? Do you understand?”

“I’m dying,” Felix wheezed. He smiled, a sardonic twist of his lips. “I’m glad you chose not to listen to me as always and came to say goodbye.”

“We could save you.” This would be so much easier if Felix agreed to suck Sylvain dry.

“My chosen is probably miles away by now and too empty himself to save me. I’m done for, Sylvain.”

The lump in Sylvain’s throat threatened to choke him. Felix’s expression softened. “It’s alright, my Dahlia,” he murmured, voice somehow soothing even with the dryness that was overtaking his body. Soon he’d turn to ash and break away at the slightest breeze. “You’ll go on. You’ll keep fighting.”

Sylvain’s jaw trembled. “No I won’t,” he denied before pulling out his skinning knife from his boot. Felix’s gaze shot to the blade and his soft expression soured.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You have to be with Dimitri.”

“Dimitri tossed me aside for the dog.”

“Dimitri saved his life,” Sylvain argued. “He saved the Damarchus from extinction with what he did. He never meant to make you feel inadequate and you know that.”

Felix spat off to the side, a glob of coagulated blood smattering across the stone. “I know that,” he hissed. “But I have no loyalty to him. Not like I do to you. Making me the cause of your death? You might as well just kill us both with that blade, because I’ll end my miserable life if you leave me like this.”

Sylvain smiled wretchedly and lifted the blade to his wrist. “You can’t stop me.”

“I’ll kill you!” Felix snarled. “You sick bastard, I’ll take every drop and leave you for a dead! I’m an animal, I can’t control this, I can’t control myself— I don’t want to kill you!”

“It’ll be alright, Felix,” Sylvain placated as Felix had done before. Just as meaningless, yet just as loaded. “I’ll always love you, darling.”

“Don’t you even—!”

One second Sylvain felt the sting of the blade penetrating his skin, and the next he felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull, the cold of the floor at his back, and the weight of a body atop him. The glint of suddenly red eyes and white fangs, elongated, two on each side of the top, one on each side of the bottom, dripping with Draugr saliva, a special numbing secretion that kept the worst of the pain from the victim so they didn’t struggle enough to dislodge. Sylvain shut his eyes and readied himself, knowing that only the bonded were lucky enough to experience complete painlessness during a bite. He dug his fingers into the ground, braced for the bite, and thought of Felix.

The teeth sunk in and Sylvain’s eyes flew wide as sudden overwhelming waves of exquisite pleasure overtook his body.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe, and not because all of his blood was rushing south rather than to the bite site. His mind struggled to function and process what was happening, knowing facts of Draugr mythology and modern day, knowing what yes of bites were experienced and what they meant, knowing the stories and yet still somehow unable to believe this because—

The Draugr called it bonded. A special pairing that was said to come from before birth itself, the woven strings of fate and eternity between two souls. If a Draugr found their bonded, the bonded would feel no pain when bitten and the Draugr would experience clarity while drinking to keep from killing their bonded. Felix had been raised to be Dimitri’s bonded. The Damarchus called it a mate, someone that became such an intimate part of a Damarchus’s life that there was no real distinction between the two. Tribe Loog called it Blood Brethren, a pairing beyond lovers and marriage that needn’t be romantic or sexual, just undying loyalty and dedication on an instinctual and spiritual level.

Dimitri had always called it a soulmate. 

The fangs sunk in deeper and Sylvain sobbed, then quickly covered his mouth with his palm, biting into the meat of his thumb as the pleasure reached an almost unbearable peak. His cock throbbed in his pants and his feet scuffed on the ground as he tried to find purchase, something to ground him. His other hand swung up and dug into Felix’s hair, twisting in the strands and pressing him deeper. A low growl came from the Draugr attached to his neck, and Sylvain’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at the agony of how good the vibration felt. He gasped wetly into his palm, hips thrusting up without his consent, humping Felix’s leg like a Damarchus in heat, wild and with abandon.

Then the bottom row of fangs penetrated his neck and Sylvain screamed as he came hard enough for it to wrench the air from his lungs, every muscle in his body taut with ecstasy, his limbs shaking as he arched off the rock and swore he saw the gods themselves. 

He came crashing down like a landslide, collapsing onto the rock with heaving gasps, gulping down air like a drowning man breaching the surface. The absence of fangs in his neck were the first thing he became aware of. He forced his eyes open, blinked past the tears, and looked up.

Felix loomed above him, flabbergasted. Sylvain was about to ask what was wrong when Felix whispered, “I stopped.”

Sylvain whimpered and nodded, unable to do much more than that. His body was still thrumming with the aftershocks, flinching as the waves continued even beyond the bite and his orgasm. He turned his face into the stone, almost ashamed, thanking the gods that it was Felix who already knew all of his stupid bedroom faces. As he struggled to gather himself again, Felix remained above him, working through the same realization Sylvain had been forced to face moments ago with a rock hard cock and the sudden understanding that he might not actually die.

“You’re him.”

Felix’s hushed reverence gave Sylvain the strength to look up. Somehow, with Sylvain’s blood blossoming at the corners of his mouth and the red eyes bleeding gold, then their normal, beautiful, endless black, Felix smiled. “You’re him.”

Sylvain could only assume he meant Felix’s bonded. He nodded weakly and rasped, “Sorry to disappointed.”

Felix, insanely enough, laughed. He laughed, bright and clear and rare, bending down to rest his head on Sylvain’s shoulder, his black tresses falling about and kissing Sylvain’s heated face. Sylvain turned his head and pressed his lips to the Felix’s scalp. “Gonna pass out,” he said.

“Rest, Dahlia,” Felix said, lifting his head to kiss Sylvain on the lips, even as Sylvain descended into darkness. “It’ll be alright— I mean it this time.”

Sylvain had no choice but to trust him as he sank into oblivion.

. . .

He awoke in a bed, a stiff mattress doing little to cushion his sore body, a heavy quilt throne over his frame. The ceiling was made of oak and the room was dim in the way that made Sylvain assume there was more snowfall outside. It was warm, though there was no fire even though it still smelt of lingering smoke. There had probably been a fire not even an hour ago because that was the only explanation as to why he wasn’t freezing to death. 

Sylvain groaned and tried to sit up, then found his body a little too weak to manage it. He dropped back onto the cot with a huff, red hair flying about as he did. “Bullshit.”

“Hello to you too.”

Sylvain’s head snapped to the side and his heart warmed like the sun to see Dimitri laying in the bed beside him. No wonder he was so warm. “Dima,” he breathed, reaching up to brush a strand of blond hair from Dimitri’s angular face. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“I could say the same to you,” Dimitri said, his words a little slower than normal. It was honestly a miracle that he was talking at all, of course, considering the axe had nearly cut him in half. “Dedue told me he was surprised to see you at all.”

Sylvain winced. “I— Felix was drained and all of the corpses were too far gone. I didn’t have a choice.”

Dimitri gave him a look that clearly stated he would agree otherwise, but Dimitri didn’t voice this thought and only squirmed a little closer, pulling the quilt further up his shoulder and up Sylvain’s chest. “They’re downstairs,” he whispered, soft and almost conspiratorially, reminiscent of when they’d been children sharing a bed while growing up, scheming together for the next day. “Dedue was worried about Felix no matter what he says. And Felix was happy to see him too.”

“Damarchus and Draugr rivalry be damned,” Sylvain hummed. “You always seem to bring the unlikeliest of people together and create the best of outcomes from the strangest of circumstances— it’s a gift, Dima.”

Dimitri raised a brow. “So?”

“So what?”

“Did you finally find out?”

Sylvain blinked slowly. “… You knew.”

Dimitri nodded, twining their hands together under the covers, his digits frigid compared to Sylvain’s. Sylvain assumed his circulation was shit right now even compared to his own and searched for both of Dimitri’s hands under the covers to bring them into his and warm them up. “I learned it,” he murmured. “I heard the voices.” The voices. The wights and the spirits and maybe even the gods themselves that brushed their ghost lips across Dimitri’s mind and told him the secrets of the world. It was what made Dimitri the leader of Tribe Loog— not just his birthright, but his connection to the under and overworlds. Dimitri was a Seer. “They told me who you and Felix were to each other. That was why…” Dimitri wet his lips. “It was why I wasn’t afraid to die to save Dedue. I didn’t know if I’d save him at all, but it didn’t matter if I survived. You and Felix were the ones who were connected. I was just— there.”

Sylvain’s heart twisted a little. “Never, Dima,” he swore, clutching Dimitri’s hands tight. “You’re my family— my Blood Brethren.” He shuddered out a breath. “Felix is— I love him so much. But he and I both belong at your side.”

Dimitri smiled a little. “It was also how I knew that Felix wouldn’t be so upset to be your beast in the end.”

“You’re a devious little thing, Dimitri.”

Dimitri nodded is agreement and then yawned. “They’re going to bring food in the morning,” he said, smacking his lips and then burrowing his face into the pillow. “I’ve had quite a few potions so I’m fairly certain I can sleep until sunrise. You should as well.”

Sylvain bit his lip. “Of course, but— before you sleep. May I ask you something? As your confidant?”

Dimitri scrutinized him. “Of all the roles you’ve assigned to my by yourself and others, that’s never really been one you’ve actually cared to formalize.”

“Felix said something and I didn’t want to care, but I’m just so curious that I have to ask— have you taken Dedue’s knot?”

Dimitri flattered him with a glare and then lifted his head to pull out his pillow and lightly smother Sylvain with it. “Bastards, the both of you,” Dimitri grumbled. Then, shyly, “I can barely take his cock for now.”

Sylvain giggled maniacally to himself and struggled the pillow away, wondering how he could get away with satisfying Felix’s curiosity without getting himself into any more trouble.


End file.
